Peanuts
by Mo-Nighean-Donn
Summary: In which Lily Evans hates peanut butter. A one-shot comprised of a series of scenes following James Potter and Lily Evans


_Hi wonderful readers, this story idea came to me around 2:00 pm, October 30. Being me, I decided that if I was going to write it, I was going to have it read for Halloween. Twelve hours and 7,400 words later, I'm ignoring the fact that I have to get up for work in two hours. Some stories are hard to write, but we push through because we believe in them. This story, this one came together like magic. Full disclaimer, there has been zero beta, only minor editing, and I'm hitting publish before I can second guess any plot points. Happy Halloween, everybody!_

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**April 1968 – The Evans Family breakfast table**

"Morning, pumpkin!"

"Morning, Mum!"

"Better hurry, you're running late."

Lily slid into her seat and glanced around the breakfast table. All the standard elements were present: eggs and bacon for Dad, tea and toast for Mum, cereal for Lily, and—a foul odor wafted past her. She stared across the table at the source.

Peanut butter.

Lily wrinkled her nose as Petunia slathered peanut butter on toast. "Do you have to?" she whined across the table, stirring her cereal idly; it hadn't turned to mush yet, and she liked it good and soggy.

Petunia eyed her sister levelly and took a massive bite of toast, chewed, swallowed, then breathed heavily in Lily' direction. The gorge rose in Lily's throat. Peanut butter. The worst smell in the world.

"Ew, gross! Mum, Tuney's doing it again!"

"Mum, Lily's being a whiney baby!"

"Girls, that's enough," their mother scolded, but only gently. It took a lot for Mum to get really mad about anything.

"But I hate it, I really do!" Lily cried. "Tuney has peanut butter on toast every morning, and nothing else, just because she knows how much I hate it."

"Don't say hate, Lily, say you strongly dislike it."

Lily subsided into her bowl of properly mushed up cereal, muttering darkly, "Well I dislike it the strongest of anything then."

Petunia finished her slice of toast, and immediately began buttering another, following that with another heap of peanut butter.

"You better not," Lily taunted her sister. "A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips."

"Lily!" her mother choked on her tea. "Where did you hear that?"

"Auntie Bea said it, the last time she was here. Is it bad?" Lily was confused.

Neither girl saw the twinkle in the glance their parents exchanged, but their father came out from behind his newspaper to arbitrate.

"Alright, this has been going on for months, let's finish it once and for all. Lily, what do you ha—strongly dislike so much about peanut butter?"

Lily squirmed in her chair, twisting her feat around its legs. She hadn't expected to be put on the spot. "Well, I don't know. It just makes me want to puke!"

Dad rubbed his mustache the way Lily knew meant he was trying not to laugh. Lily thought he wasn't' taking her seriously enough. No one ever did. Everyone just laughed and asked how she could not like peanut butter, as if it was universally loved simply because they loved it. She liked peanuts just fine, just not peanut butter, why was that so difficult to understand? She tried to press the point home to her father.

"In fact, I wish I never had to smell it ever again!"

"Fat chance of that!" Tuney spat out. "I like it, so you just have to put up with it. So there!"

"Petunia," Dad warned, and Petunia shrank in her chair. He turned back to his younger daughter. "Alright, you've made your point, but, sweetheart, the world can't simply arrange itself around what you would like."

"Why not?"

"Can you imagine if everything had to be perfect for everybody all at once?"

Lily imagined. She grinned. "Chaos!"

Her mother shook her head and sighed. "Where did we go wrong?"

Dad chuckled and tugged Lily's braid. "Not wrong, she just looks at the world from an angle when everyone else sees it head on. Lilykins, I'm afraid this is one time you'll just have to get used to it. You can't ban peanut butter."

"Yeah," Petunia glared smugly at her sister. "Everyone but you isn't crazy, so you just have to—"

"But that doesn't mean anyone can go around shoving it in your face." Dad cut in. "Petunia, you've been goading your sister, and it has to stop."

"Yes, Dad," Tuney sulked.

"I think that's a fair compromise," Mum said, in the tone that meant 'after this we are done talking about it.' "Lily, you hold your peace about it, and Petunia doesn't force it on you. Agreed?"

There was a tense moment while the sisters eyed each other carefully. Each knew she could be trusted, but what about the other?

"Yes, Mum," they said at last.

"Jinx!" Lily shouted. She giggled. It had been weeks since she'd gotten the drop on Tuney in a jinx. Now she was practically guaranteed an ice cream, since Tuney couldn't stay silent above five minutes. Lily could hold out all day, even at school, and was proud of it.

Petunia scowled, but said nothing, and breakfast concluded without further incident. But as she stood under the bright new sun waiting for the bus, Lily thought long and hard about what Dad said, that nobody should force something on her, just because she didn't like it. And Lily determined that the next time someone tried to shove peanut butter in her face, she'd shove it right back.

**September 1971 – Hogwarts, Great Hall**

Lily stared in amazement at the lofty ceiling. Last night it had been dark and starry, and lit by a brilliant moon and thousands of candles. Now it shone clear blue, and the brilliant day light glittered on the dishes ranged down the table. It was all still so staggering, and she'd known for nearly a year. Witches were real, and she was one, and they studied at Hogwarts, and if that wasn't a magic name she didn't know what was!

The familiar quiet breakfast noises of home were replaced by a rather raucous din of hundreds of students and a dozen or so teachers. Lily felt a bit small, and lost as she looked up and down the length of the Gryffindor table. She thought with a pang of Sev turning to the opposite side of the room at the sorting last night. She had so hoped they could stay together. Instead, Lily was stuck in the same house with stupid James Potter and his stupid snotty friend.

Between them, they accounted for at least seventy percent of the present noise level in the hall, and Lily rolled her eyes before focusing hard on her cereal. James Potter had been instantly noticeable when she arrived on Platform 9 ¾ yesterday morning. She'd held tight to Mum's hand, while Dad pushed her trunk. Petunia wouldn't get out of the car.

The Potter family had stood a bit further down the platform, and first she'd thought James' grandparents had come to see him off. He looked nice enough, at first, but by the time the train stopped in the dark and all the first years had gotten into the boats, James Potter had placed himself squarely on Lily's "beware" list. That was fine though, she wasn't really looking for more friends.

Lily's musings were interrupted by a burst of hot, smelly breath right next to her face. Peanut butter breath. Potter.

"Homesick?" he bleated. "You look sad." Potter had moved next to her on the bench, and held a large piece of toast—generously slathered in grossness—in one hand, and a few rashers of bacon in the other. He chewed with his mouth open.

Lily swallowed hard and turned away. "I'm fine."

"Because sometimes Muggleborns are, you know," he continued. "It's all a bit new for them."

"How would you know?" she asked coldly. "You're a first year like me."

"Yeah, but I grew up knowing I'd go to Hogwarts. You didn't."

Briefly, Lily remembered her dad telling her she would have to put up with things she didn't like in life. She remembered all her mother's anxious warnings yesterday about manners. Too bad Mrs. Potter hadn't done the same for her son.

"Would you mind moving?" she asked stiffly.

"Why?"

She paused. "Your—your toast. It makes me sick."

The cray hazel eyes behind thick glasses squinted at her. "How could toast make anyone sick?"

"Well, not the toast," she began. _Here we go_, she thought. _And it's only Day One_. "I don't like peanut butter."

Several heads snapped to at that.

Potter visibly recoiled. "How can you not like peanut butter?" he screeched.

"I just don't, that's all."

James Potter did a stupid thing. It was the first of many stupid things James Potter would do around Lily Evans. James Potter took a large bite of peanut butter, chewed, swallowed, and breathed on her.

Lily remembered a lot more clearly her father saying no one should be able to shove something in her face, just because they like it and she didn't. She could feel the flush rising from neck to face as she glared furiously at the stupid boy with the stupid hair, who had just moved himself from the "beware" list to the "loathe for eternity" list.

Without a word, Lily snatched his toast from his hand, and shoved it in his face, then wiped her fingers on his robe.

**October 1973 – Hogwarts, Great Hall**

"Hey, Evans, didn't see you in Hogsmeade last weekend."

Lily ignored Potter, as she had been ignoring him for two years now. Which meant she acted cool and superior sometimes, and flew at him others. She didn't react now, just stared moodily at her plate.

The Halloween feast was excellent, as always, but Lily couldn't enjoy it. She hadn't gone to Hogsmeade. She'd wanted to, but Sev said the village would be full of Potter and his friends, and Lily knew that was true, and she hadn't seen Sev much that summer, so she had stayed behind with him at the school.

Potter didn't need to know any of that.

Potter shrugged now, and turned back to his cronies. They could make a celebration out of any day of the week, so a legitimate excuse for high spirits always put them in high spirits.

Boys. They were just as dumb this year as they had been last year. Her roommates were beginning to experiment with powder and mascara and the effect of their eyelashes when fluttered strategically, but Lily couldn't see the use. Didn't anyone realize that OWLS were only two years away? And NEWTS two years after that? It had struck her quite suddenly this year that life was spinning by altogether too quickly, and before they knew it, they would be graduating and choosing careers and building lives and it was never too early to start getting in a good foundation. She'd said as much to Sev.

"I just, I guess I thought it would keep getting better each year."

"Hasn't it?" he asked.

Lily had shrugged. "It hasn't gotten—worse, exactly, and the classes do get better, but—" she trailed off, aware that any direct mention of James Potter would send Sev ranting for hours. She didn't need that today. "I mean, I'm a witch, and some days I still wake up thinking it will all turn out to be a dream, and I'm thrilled when it isn't, but sometimes, I'm a bit, lonely, I guess. I thought that would go away."

Sev stared at her from beneath his heavy curtain of dark hair. "You've got me. You'll always have me. Always."

Lily attempted a smile. There was a peculiar intensity to Sev's friendship these days. Lily felt it, though she couldn't name the feeling. "I know."

Lily stared at her plate, at the excellent food the house elves delighted in preparing. She wanted to enjoy it. But how could she with The Marauders acting like baboons five feet away? Even that name, you could hear the capital letters when they said it.

"Oi, Evans, not hungry? If roast beef isn't your thing, I'm sure we could find you some peanut butter toast." Potter couldn't leave her alone for long; it was a compulsion with him, one Lily could do without. If Hogwarts had stayed the same, Potter had not. He had aged, aged like cheese. Stinkier every year. More annoying; more foul.

Lily had made a reputation for herself that first morning, and found very quickly that she regretted it. That reputation had clung to her like, well, peanut butter. Sticky and messy and annoying. Potter especially couldn't let it go.

"Enough with the peanut butter, Potter, for Merlin's sake!"

"But I just can't understand how you can't like peanut butter!"

She thought for the millionth time of her parents reminding her that the world couldn't always go her way. Well, what if it had to? Why should she constantly defend her likes or dislikes? Potter hated broccoli and nobody told him he was crazy.

Deep inside her, something snapped. Maybe it was being nearly fourteen, maybe it was feeling like she didn't fit in with the rest of her classmates. Maybe she was just done, once and for all. Whatever it was, it made her whirl around to face Potter head on, a dangerous light glittering in her green eyes.

"Because I'm allergic, you idiot!" she hissed.

Silence fell in the vicinity of the two combatants. Potter's eyes widened, and he ran a hand nervously through his hair.

"Oh, Merlin, Evans, I'm sorry. I didn't—why didn't—I mean," he looked helplessly at his friends, who merely shrugged.

"Because it was none of your business." Lily hated giving in to Potter's teasing. The fire felt good while it blazed, but she hated the gritty, ashy feeling left when it had burned itself out. Tired, she was just so tired. Did no one else feel like this? No one?

Conversation gradually rose back to a hum, and Lily was left to finish her dinner in peace. After several minutes, she felt eyes on her, and looked up to find Potter staring, unabashed. She scowled at him. He pressed his lips together and nodded, and Lily understood that peanut butter would not figure in his torment of her again.

That thought was small comfort months later as she stood before a display of treats in Honeydukes. Lily had waited anxiously for this Hogsmeade visit, wanting to explore the little town no matter how Potter-infested it was. She'd heard all about Honeydukes, and the wonders contained therein, and now here she stood, mesmerized by the array of colours and aromas. Chocolate frogs and peppermint toads, sugar quills, every flavor of Bertie Bott's Beans, cauldron cakes, Drooble's gum, Lick'O'Rish spiders, toffees and taffies and treacle and best of all, Witch's Warts. Which was a terrible awful name for the best candy of them all: little clusters of peanuts held together with caramel and wrapped in chocolate.

Lily could almost taste them, she reached for one…

"Oh, those are the best!"

Potter. How he managed to show up at her elbow just when she didn't want him around, which was all the time, she did not know.

"They look amazing." She agreed with him before she could stop herself, such was the power of Honeydukes.

"They are. Too bad you're allergic."

The words hit her like a Stunning jinx. Because of course, those were her very words, weren't they?

Potter disappeared, and Lily trudged around the store, selecting a few very non-peanut related candies, all the while she could scream. She was an idiot. Peanut M&Ms were her favorite Muggle candy. Witch's Warts made M&Ms look pathetic. She wanted one so badly she wasn't paying attention and popped a handful of Bertie Bott's beans in her mouth without thinking. She gagged. Peanut Butter. Just her luck.

The rest of the day dragged. Sev couldn't be convinced to leave the castle, so Lily wandered about Hogsmeade alone, thinking hard. There had to be a way to get some of those warts. She'd have to wait until everyone else had headed back to the castle, and risk being late. She didn't like that idea. Besides, Christmas holidays began soon, and she was going home, she could stuff herself with peanut M&Ms then. Even just the thought of not being able to eat them when she wanted made them more appetizing.

Christmas holidays came and went, and Lily, mindful to keep them in the very bottom of her trunk, brought back several bags of M&Ms, just to tide her over. She had to be very careful, and she was suddenly aware of just how little one could be truly alone at Hogwarts, but even with infrequent opportunity her stash soon disappeared, and she was beginning to dream about the barrel of witch's warts at Honeydukes.

When the next Hogsmeade visit notice went up, hers was the first name on it. She had saved several months' allowance, as much as she could around necessities like clothes and school supplies, and Lily was determined that this time, she was bringing home a box of warts. She grimaced at the disgusting name, but supposed it was better than it could have been.

All day, she hung about the shops by the candy store, keeping an eye always on the steady stream of Hogwarts students passing in and out. Late in the afternoon, there came a lull. Lily had been watching for it, and knew it was now or never. She raced out of Gladrags Wizard Wear, across the street, and into the sticky sweetness of Honeydukes. In a minute she had her prize, paid for it, and breathlessly tucked it in a deep inner pocket of her coat.

Just wait until I learn an undetectable extension charm, she thought gleefully. Halfway down the street, she halted suddenly. No student went to Hogsmeade and came back empty handed. She hadn't even had a Butterbeer that day. Racing back, she hastily bought some chocoballs and sugared butterfly wings, to the amusement of the proprietor, then she was gone, back up to the castle to stow her bounty before her roommates returned.

Lily stood in the middle of her dorm, flushed with the thrill of victory. She'd done it. She, Lily Evans, straitlaced rule follower, had just smuggled candy into her room. Never mind that the only reason she shouldn't have it was a lie she herself had told, the charm of the forbidden made these chocolate covered dainties all the more alluring. She removed one from it's hiding place, stared at it, then hastily popped it whole into her mouth.

It was better than anything she had ever tasted. It made peanut M&Ms taste like wax-covered plastic. Witch's warts were her official favorite candy now and forever. She fell back onto her pillow, savoring every last drop. When it was gone, she mentally tallied how many she had, and how long they would last. If she was very careful, she could stretch her supply to the next Hogsmeade visit, but it was cutting it close. She would have to smuggle more next time.

Not for the first time, she wished for a best friend, someone in her own house, to share secrets and escapades and triumphs with. Then she pushed that thought aside as an unprofitable line of thinking. She had smuggled candy alone once, and she would do it again.

**December 1976 – Beside the Black Lake, Hogwarts**

Lily blew out a breath that steamed in the frosty air and reached into her pocket for her last witch's wart. Being a Prefect made her smuggling operation more difficult, and had completely prevented her replenishing her stock last trip to Hogsmeade. She'd been saving this one for days, until exams were over.

She huffed again, enjoying the sight of her breath fogging in the air, and stared out at the frozen lake. It had been a difficult term. More than lonely, she felt lost. Not even seven OWLS and nothing below and Exceed Expectations could quite make up for the searing loss of a best friend.

True, she and Sev hadn't been close in a long time, but he was—Sev. He had said always. And then always didn't mean always anymore. Lily found herself with plenty of casual friends, and numerous acquaintances, even she had to admit she had grown more popular since publicly disassociating herself from the Slytherins, but all the girls in her house had paired off years ago, and Lily ached for a best friend. There was a lovely Ravenclaw in her year, they studied together pretty often, but always in the end Lily walked back to her tower alone.

Sighing, she raised the now sticky candy to her mouth, and was blindsided by a banshee scream and an attack from behind.

"Nooooo!"

James Potter whirled out of seemingly nowhere and smacked her treat into the snow.

"Potter, you moron, what are you doing?" Lily hollered when she'd gotten her breath back.

James lay in the snow, limbs askew, panting heavily. "That's a witch's wart, Evans, they've got peanuts inside."

"I know they do, they're my favorite and that was my last one. What were you thinking, tackling me like that?"

James hauled himself up out of the snow, brushing it off his trousers and cloak. "What do you mean, they're your favorite? You can't eat those! You're allergic."

Lily had been smuggling and enjoying in secret for so long, she'd nearly forgotten why it was necessary in the first place. She flushed scarlet, stamped her foot, and screamed, "I'm not allergic, you bloody moron!"

Instantly she paled, the flush receding so quickly James thought she might faint. She clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes wide.

James stared back. "What do you mean, you aren't allergic?"

Lily lowered her hands slowly and looked around.

"Oh, don't worry," James snapped. "We're the only two stupid enough not to be holed up inside on a day like this. You are allergic, you told me so yourself, third year."

The absurdity of it all—the secret, the hiding, being caught by James of all people, and then outing herself like that—caught up with Lily's sense of humour, and she began to laugh. Gasping for breath, she fell against the trunk of a convenient oak tree and laughed until she could barely stand.

James simply stood there, staring in bemusement. When she finally quieted, he sank down beside her, cast a warming charm, and grinned crookedly. "So, I'm guessing you aren't really allergic."

Lily shook her head, still fizzing with mirth. "I only said that because you wouldn't stop teasing. And it worked."

He laughed then too. "Well I should think so." He glanced sideways at her. "You know, when you said it, I didn't even know what allergic meant?"

"Really?"

"Honestly, I thought it was some fatal incurable disease."

"I guess wizarding families don't have anything as pedestrian as allergies," Lily sighed, acutely aware of her own blood status.

James shrugged. "I suppose some do, I was just ignorant. And then I did some research, and I really was scared. I learned that you could die from contact, and I thought of how many times I had taunted you with my toast, and I thought if you had died it would be all my fault."

"I had no idea."

He shrugged again.

"I'm sorry, Potter."

James said nothing, just stared off across the water like Lily had done. Then he bolted forward, rooted around in the snow, and finally came up with something in his hand. Plopping back down next to Lily, he handed her a not much worse for wear witch's wart. "It doesn't seem to have sustained too much damage. Accept it with my apologies?"

Lily smiled and took it gingerly with her fingertips. "Thank you. Want half?"

"They're rather hard to split."

Lily rolled her eyes. "And you a born wizard." She retrieved her wand from its pocket and neatly severed the candy in two, handing one half back to James.

They were silent while they ate, and for several minutes after. Finally, Lily said quietly, "It felt good to laugh like that."

James nodded knowingly. "The war."

"It overshadows everything. I mean, a couple years ago, I was worrying about what NEWTS to take and what my career options might be. And now—"

"It makes our personal worries all seem rather petty, doesn't it?" he finished for her.

Lily sighed. "And yet that doesn't' seem fair either. I'm going to have to figure these things out, war or no, they are important. But they get lost in, everything else."

"Hence standing under a frozen oak tree, beside a lake, on the coldest day you could pick."

"I just wanted to get away, now that exams are done."

"Going home for the hols?" he asked, a little too casually.

Lily sighed again. "For what it's worth. My sister—she hasn't really talked to me in years, I think maybe since I got into Hogwarts."

"That's awful."

"So is she. She's got a boyfriend now, and he's worse."

"What are you going to do?"

She shrugged, tipping her head back against the rough, icy bark so she could see nothing but bare black branches against a lowering, steel grey sky. It looked how he felt. "Probably gorge myself sick on peanut M&Ms. That's what I usually do."

"What are those?"

"They're a muggle candy, they were my favorite before I found the warts."

"They must be good then."

Lily snorted. "Once you've had Honeydukes, there is no going back. But I can't get Honeydukes from home, and I don't have any left, so M&Ms is will be."

"I see," James nodded thoughtfully. "It is a bit cold out, do you want to go back up to the castle yet?"

Lily turned, and surprised a look she had never seen in his eyes before. She was cold, she had wanted to be alone, and James had spoiled it all, and yet he hadn't. And she found she couldn't resent him for it.

Lily shared a train compartment with her Ravenclaw study partner and a few others, studiously ignoring Sev whenever he stalked past, looking through him whenever their paths crossed on patrol. Her dad was alone to pick her up, but that wasn't unusual. Mum liked to make a special dinner for Lily's first night home.

She hugged her dad fiercely, inhaling the warm familiar scents of wool, peppermint, and pipe tobacco.

"You smell like an old man, Dad," she teased. "Like Grandad used to."

"Well, that's not a bad thing." Dad's eyes twinkled at her as he loaded her trunk. "They still won't let you use suitcases?"

"Trust me, if you ever saw the castle, you'd understand."

All the way home, he told her about the latest albums he'd bought, and she talked about her classes and exams, and neither of them alluded to the fact that these were possibly the last peaceful moments they would have in Lily's entire vacation.

They were. Christmas was a nightmare, though Lily and her dad tried bravely to keep up the jokes and smiles. It was all just too much, made worse by the brand-new diamond chip glittering on Petunia's finger Christmas morning. Petunia engaged turned out to be even more manic than Petunia dating.

Lily had one truly wonderful moment that Christmas Day. Late afternoon, when the house smelled wonderfully of turkey and pudding, an owl landed on the kitchen windowsill and tapped insistently at the glass. Lily dropped the potato she was peeling and yanked the window open, ignoring Petunia's instant shrieks about drafts.

The owl, a magnificent snowy white, bore a large paper wrapped parcel. She accepted it, then dug through her pockets for a few loose knuts, coming up instead with two sickles. She handed them both to the owl, who looked at her imperiously as though to say, "that isn't correct, and you know it."

"I know," she said. "But it's Christmas. Tell your master to get you something really nice for making you fly all the way here on Christmas Day."

The bird regarded her for a long moment; she had the oddest feeling of being weighed in the balance, and hoped she would not be found wanting. Finally, the great golden eyes blinked once, twice, and the leg pouch was extended to accept the payment.

Lily closed the window after the owl took flight, and hastily unwrapped her gift. It had to be for her, and she had a good idea who it was from. Inside was a massive tin stuffed full of Honeydukes chocolates. Chocolate frogs, chocoballs, chocolate cauldrons, chocolate wands that released sparks and charms when broken, complete bars of Honeydukes best chocolate, nougat chunks, toffees, and best of all, a large mound of witch's warts.

Taped to the top was a not on heavy parchment.

_Alternate names could be: peanut pebbles, toffee rocks, sweet'n'saltys, and there have to be more. No more witch's warts. Sign the petition to ban gross names for delicious treats!_

_P.S. I'm glad you're not really allergic._

_P.P.S. Merry Christmas_

Lily clutched the note like a lifeline, and began to cry. Her parents found her there several minutes later, sniffing suspiciously, but she said only that the tin was a gift to her family from a friend at school. Her parents exchanged a look, but had no reason not to believe her. But the tears, they couldn't help but wonder if everything was alright with their daughter.

Lily and her parents spent the rest of the holidays nibbling away at the sweets, and when the time came to take her once more to the world they could not share, her parents were more than a bit worried. Lily hadn't been herself at all, and she got worse the closer they got to King's Cross.

Lily didn't feel like herself at all. Every time she thought of the tin of sweet'n'saltys—she'd decided she liked that name best—tucked away in her trunk, she felt a strange twisting in her gut that had nothing to do with too much chocolate.

The platform was crowded, and so was the train, so Lily didn't see James until dinner that night in the Great Hall. She tried to catch his eye once or twice, but he would not look her way. After years of meeting his gaze every time she looked up, this development was more unpleasant than she liked to admit.

The confusion after dinner felt more like the beginning of a new year than just a new term, but at last the students were herded back into common rooms and dorms, and Lily collapsed into a squashy loveseat in front of the fire. A lanky shadow soon joined her, but said nothing.

"I wanted to say thank you," she began, then stopped.

"I'm glad you got it, though you grossly overpaid Devereaux." James replied.

"Is that his name? He's beautiful."

"And he knows it."

For a long moment, the only sound was the crackling of the flames, and the scuffing of James swinging his foot back and forth across the carpet.

"I won't tell, you know," he said in a low voice. "I wasn't, I mean I hope you didn't think…"

"I was—am—a little worried," Lily admitted. "It's just, I've been keeping this secret so long, and I was so tired of constantly explaining why I hate peanut butter, and I just, I don't know," she concluded lamely.

He gave her a slow, sly smile, and his glasses reflected the flames as he said, "Don't worry, Evans, I assure you I know how to keep a secret."

Lily snorted. As long as she'd known him, that wasn't something she'd say about him. He and his friends liked to be mysterious, especially in this last year when they'd taken to using the most ridiculous nicknames, but real secrets? Lily didn't think so.

"Oh really?" James leaped to his feet. "I'll prove it to you."

"James, I'm not going anywhere, it's after curfew, and besides, wouldn't proving you can keep a secret necessitate revealing one?"

He sat down next to her, staring beatifically.

"What?" she demanded. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"That's the first time you've called me anything but Potter."

She thought about that. "I guess so."

"I wish you'd keep on doing it."

When had his voice gotten so low and husky? Whenever she thought of him, which was far too often for her liking, she still pictured the shrill, scrawny, all arms and legs boy he'd been. Playing Quidditch certainly hadn't hurt his physique; why hadn't she noticed before. When had James Potter stopped being an arrogant toerag?

"I might," she said, a little breathless. "As long as you don't give me any reasons to go back to Potter."

James leaned in close, very close, and held her eyes. She could see the fire flickering in their depths, how very steady they were.

Then he grinned and tweaked her nose. "Tomorrow I'll show you some better hiding places than the bottom of your trunk."

And he was gone.

Lily sat a long time before the dying embers, wondering what, exactly, had happened.

**October 1979 – London**

"Brr, it's freezing, why is it so freezing in here?" Lily rubbed her mittened hands together and stamped her feet impatiently.

"Just give me a sec to check the wards," James brushed past her, moving silent as a ghost through the house.

Lily waited by the front door until he came back, smiling. "All clear." With a flick of his wand the radiators roared to life, and within minutes were spilling enough heat for Lily to consider removing a layer or two. Eventually, she allowed James to remove her coat, and she snuggled up next to him on the couch.

"That was a wild party," Lily mumbled around a yawn. "Trust Sirius to throw a bash like that in the middle of a war."

James grinned into Lily's hair. "He certainly knows how to make the best of things."

"I haven't seen so many sweets in one place since school, how do you think he managed it?"

I think he's been saving up, and I believe he's been practicing his Geminio."

Lily sat bolt upright. "I knew some of them tasted soapy! When will he learn that—"

"Yes, yes," James pulled her back down. "Food, Transfiguration, etc, etc, you can yell at him tomorrow. By the way, I saw you eyeing the sweet'n'saltys all night."

Lily groaned. "I can't believe everyone still thinks I'm allergic to peanuts. That was such a stupid move."

"But it has kept the dreaded peanut butter at bay."

"Not to mention I get pity and condolence rather than weird looks."

They laughed, lightly, cautiously. It didn't feel quite safe to be so happy in these times.

"Also," James continued. "I brought you these." He reached into his pocket and pulled out several handfuls of sweet'n'saltys.

Lily sprang at them with a cry of delight and a kiss for their bearer. "How did you manage it?"

"I was sneaking them into my pocket a few at a time all night," he said. "Don't worry, they're all originals. No soapy aftertaste." He paused. "I know how much you love them."

Lily gathered them into a little pile on the coffee table, and settled back against James with a contented sigh. "Do you know how much I love you?"

"I believe I have a vague idea, but you're welcome to elaborate."

Lily turned in his arms and kissed him, a kiss rich with chocolate and caramel, and a longing for each other that could never be satisfied, no matter how long they were together. After several moments, Lily pulled back, breathing deeply.

"I love you, James Potter. No matter what, I will always love you." And she kissed him again, and James kissed her back, desperately, because when you're young and there's a war on everything is a little desperate and you hold tightly to the good things because if you don't they'll be snatched away.

Finally, they broke apart, hair and clothes a little out of place.

"Really, Mrs. Potter, do tell me more," James murmured.

**July 1980 – Godric's Hollow**

Lily winced as a sharp kick landed in her ribs. "Easy there, Peanut, you have a couple weeks left." She glanced out at the blinding, cloudless skies overhead. "Although with this heat wave, come anytime you want." She cast another cooling charm, but they seemed to melt in the heat like everything else these days.

Lily gently rubbed the side of her bulging stomach, and was rewarded with another kick. She paced the house, tidying one thing, straightening another, not able to sit and rest.

It had been months since the Order had pulled her from the active duty rosters, and she couldn't disagree, but still it chafed her to be sitting idly by while the others went and took all the risks. Her basic healing skills were being stretched and strengthened these days, but it didn't feel like enough. Nothing ever felt like enough. Like every move they made was too little, too late.

She fretted and paced until the baby's frantic squirming forced her into a chair, focusing on breathing evenly. "All right, you've made your point. I need to relax."

The problem was when Lily relaxed, she couldn't ignore the cravings. "What I wouldn't give for a bar of Honeydukes best right now," she said conversationally. "Or better yet, a tin of sweet'n'saltys. Oh, now you've got me thinking about chocolate. It's all your fault, you know. And really, it's the fault of those chocolates that you're even here, so who's to blame for what, hmm?"

The afternoon wore on, broken up by brief visits from Sirius and Remus. Both looked older than when she'd seen them last, tired, haggard even. This war was taking its toll on all of them. Only twenty and she had worry lines between her eyebrows. Remus had grey hair. Sirius' eyes were sometimes to haunted she couldn't look into them. And James…

"Just come to see how mini-Prongs is coming along," Sirius said jovially.

"Don't you think it could be a mini-Evans?" Lily asked gravely.

Sirius barked a laugh. "Not a chance. It's bound to be a little Prongs, and when he's born, I'll say I told you so."

"A pleasure all the greater for being deferred, I'm sure," Lily said dryly.

Sirius bent down to talk to Lily's stomach. "Hello, mini-Prongs! Stay safe, don't come out too soon, your mummy doesn't like it when I'm right. See if you can time being born while I'm on a mission, yeah? That's my good lad."

He gave the baby a poke, and started back when a foot became clearly visible inches from his nose.

Lily laughed. "Isn't he smart, he already knows when to kick you to make you stop talking."

Remus' visit was quieter. He asked how Lily was feeling as kindly and gently as a nurse could have done, brought her new books to read, and restocked her potions cupboard, since James was forever forgetting what they were low on, and generally just tried to keep her mind off of things.

But through both visits, Lily couldn't help her gaze straying to the clock on the wall, watching each second pass, paralyzed with fear when she thought about where James was and who he could be facing. Damn Dumbledore sending James on such a dangerous mission so close to her due date. But he needed the best, and that James certainly was.

Close to midnight, Lily sat in her rocking chair in the bedroom, staring into space, painfully aware that James was very late. She gently rubbed the swell that cradled their child in repetitive patterns, over and over, pretending it calmed the baby, wishing it calmed her.

She dozed off sometime in the night, and woke to the first faint dawn light glowing around the edges of the window, and James standing in the doorway, weary, bloodied and bandaged, but whole. With a glad cry, she moved towards him faster than she had in months, nearly toppling them with the momentum she gained across the small room.

He wiped away her tears before she knew she was crying, murmuring the same reassurances she's whispered to their baby through the long night.

It's okay. I'm here. Shh, it's alright. Everything's going to be alright.

And then James handed her a tiny, white paper sack, and she could smell them before she opened it. Peanuts, caramel, chocolate. Oh, the memories. It had been ages since she gotten her hands on these.

"How in Merlin's name did you do this?"

"A long and heroic tale I will tell you someday soon. But first, sleep." He patted her shoulder and shuffled toward the bed, but Lily caught his arm and redirected him toward the bathroom first.

"If you think you're getting spell soot and grease all over my sheets, think again. Bath first, then bed."

"Okay," he agreed, asleep on his feet. "Then cuddles?"

She smiled at him. In this light, he almost looked like a boy again, not the battle-weary veteran with a child on the way. "Yes, sweetheart, then cuddles."

He nodded, and allowed himself to be led away, all was endurable so long as Lily was there in the end.

Lily had come dangerously close to thinking the night before, about what single-motherhood might be like. She pushed those thoughts away fiercely, locked them in the box of things that simply weren't allowed to happen, like losing the war or spending the holidays with Petunia and Vernon. There was no "if" about them both surviving. They both simply had to.

**October 1981 – Godric's Hollow**

Harry squealed with delight as James tossed him high in the air, giggling when he caught him. Lily watched the familiar scene and smiled, thinking there was finally a practical application for all those hours James spent tossing a snitch about at school.

She could hardly believe Harry was already a year old. It seemed like yesterday she had held him, tiny and perfect and only minutes old. And now he was toddling about on his chubby little legs, and looking far too at home on his toy broomstick. James said he would be a seeker.

She turned away from her husband and son to finish folding a load of laundry. There wasn't much cause for laughter these days, though they tried to keep it up for Harry's sake. But Lily's nails were constantly chewed to the quick, and James couldn't sit still for more than a minute unless it was with his son, and they were both of them feeling worn out with the strain.

At first, when they went into hiding, it had felt like a vacation. They had been granted leave, and the war bothered them no longer. Now, after so many months, they just felt, on hold. They could feel it, in the furtive visits from friends that grew more rare, the tension that snapped and crackled on the wind. Something had to break, and soon. What would it take to win this awful war?

She came back into the warmth and light of the kitchen to see James attempting to feed Harry a piece of chocolate.

"James, no!"

"Why?"

"He might be allergic."

James lifted his eyebrows at her. "Why would he be, neither of his parents is allergic."

Lily rolled her eyes and lifted Harry onto her hip. The small boy screwed up his face at the loss of his treat, but Lily shushed him gently. "Fine, because it's my chocolate, and I don't want to share until I absolutely have to."

"That's the Lily I know and love," James wrapped his arms around his family. "What are you going to do when he's old enough to reason with you?"

Lily shrugged. "The same thing our parents did, I suppose, tell him because I said so, then send him to Hogwarts."

James burst out laughing at that. "On second thought, perhaps we won't have any more children, if that's your parenting strategy."

Lily wilted, clinging to Harry, resting her head on James' shoulder. "Is it awful that I haven't thought about that, about how to raise him later? I feel like it's all I can do to raise him now."

James lifted her chin, rested his hand on her cheek. "You are an amazing mother, Lily Potter. And I guarantee that you will know what to do when the time comes. Okay?"

Lily nodded.

"Okay," James said again. "Now, why don't you go put the little man to bed, and I'll start dinner. It won't be a Hogwarts feast, but I'll do what I can."

"Alright, that sounds nice. And if you're very good, maybe afterward, I'll share my chocolate with you." She winked at him, suddenly feeling better, and headed for the stairs. "Oh, and James, Happy Halloween."


End file.
